


"And the words 'Hope' and 'Home' that sound the same"

by SolivagantSleepyhead



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, cronus and kankri are runaways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:04:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2027820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolivagantSleepyhead/pseuds/SolivagantSleepyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've never felt like you belonged here. Not in your home, where your step-mother and her daughter seem more important to your father than you do. Not at your school, where you're the lowest of the low, even in the most pretentious group of teenagers you've ever met. And especially not in this town, where materialism and the dredging tedium of the most perfunctory task coalesce into this never ending hopelessness you've come to know as "existence".</p>
<p>He's the same, and you think that's what drew you together. And that's why the two of you are leaving tonight, when the full moon hangs unceremoniously above you in a tepid August sky. It's an important night, because, as cliche as it sounds: tonight is the first day of the rest of your lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. did you hear the one  about the day the moon fell to earth?

You sighed shallowly, a thing tendril of smoke filtering from your lips and into the frigid, midnight air. Fingers shaking against the phone pressed to your palm, you debated calling him one more time, your nerves getting the better of you as your mind ran rampant with the possibilities of what could have happened—why he might be even a minuscule 3 minutes late.

Your name is Cronus Ampora, but you're probably going to have to change it ~~if~~ _when_ your plans for the night go as successfully as you‘ve scheduled them to. You’re 17, but you’ll be 18 in about half a year. You've got a cute little boyfriend with the smallest hands and the biggest brown eyes. He's a firecracker and intelligent and a bit of a hypocrite, but you love him all the same. Like many teenagers, you hate school, hate your town, and hate your family.

But tonight, you're running away.

It wasn't an impulsive decision; you'd been planning it out since somewhere between the first time your dad lost his temper with you, and that horrendous year when your mother left and he remarried that spindly termagant, Marquise. By closest estimate, you’d been aching to leave for about a decade, but you'd only begun taking it from fantasy to reality after you met Kanny.

Kankri was put up for adoption early in his childhood; he doesn’t remember much regarding his biological parents, but he’s adamant in the fact that they had “been reluctant to give him up”. Since then, he'd been bounced from foster home to foster home until two years ago, when a wealthier couple in your town had adopted him. However, it quickly became clear that he was more of a token child—his adoption more self-congratulatory than an act of compassion from his parents than anything.

Surprisingly, you’d met him through Marquise, who had been friends with his adoptive father since childhood. ~~Honestly, it was probably the only good thing you could have attributed to her.~~ At the time, Kankri had only been adopted by them about a week earlier, and his new parents held this senselessly extravagant dinner party to celebrate his adoption into their family. At the center of more attention than he had ever had in his entire life, Kankri had looked like he was going to faint. They'd dressed him up and paraded him around like a show poodle, tittering over his effeminate face and pre-pubescent height. " _So polite for a pleb_!" You'd heard someone whisper in that passive aggressive, blatantly indiscreet way that seemed second nature to them and you'd lost it, sweeping him outside with some fraudulent excuse in hopes of easing the anxiety in his eyes.

After that you'd just gotten talking. With a sincere bitterness, he had confided in you that, although he was grateful for the Zahhak's charity, he'd rather still be an orphan than anyone’s _pet_. Caught up in the moment, you'd blurted out your escape plan to him unintentionally.

You’d expected anything but for him to understand, which he did more than anyone else would have been capable.

You exchanged cell numbers with him, and he offered to help with the more tactical aspects in your getaway. Eventually, as your relationship matured, it only seemed natural to incorporate him into your plan (you couldn’t imagine leaving him behind in such an unbearable place).

The childhood pipe dream of ditching town became owning an ocean-side apartment together; Kankri working part time while he wrote his novel, and you playing music in local bars. Because both of you were still technically minors, the threat of being discovered presented a substantial risk, so the two of you would have to draw as little attention to yourselves as possible—at least until Kankri’s 18th birthday a year away. Until then, though, you’d have to exercise caution in everything.

Lying on the hood of your car, you were trying to ease your apprehension with the burning calm of your cigarettes as you tried and failed to seem innocuous. Because the security in his neighborhood was pretty intense, you’d had no choice but to park at least a mile and a half away. And you were praying to any listening deities that your plan would work out.

It had to work. You didn’t even want to imagine how much more terrible your lives could become if you got caught—what with your fake IDs, spurious license plate, and the pilfered money from your trust fund.

The soft echo of hurried footfalls broke you from your reverie, the subdued glow of his crimson sweater emerging underneath the streetlights. Pulling him into an embrace, you laughed in strained relief, taking his bag from his shoulder and kissing him on the crown of his messy auburn hair.

"I apologize for my tardiness, Cronus. I had my uncertainties as to whether or not they were asleep, and disconnecting the security system was more difficult than I had originally anticipated." He mumbled, his eyes glowing up at you as his glasses frames caught the glinting halo of orange light from above.

"Nah, don't worry, babe," you smiled, tossing his bag into the backseat of your car. "We should get a move on, though. It'll take a while to get out of the state without hittin' any tolls on the way."

Hopping in the car, you could feel the solidity of how surreal all of it was. After years of dreaming, you were finally doing it. Your future splayed out in front of you through open roads and the cold air of an August night. Even through all that you had assumed it might be when you read Jack Kerouac’s _On the Road_ ,you felt that nothing could compare to the true sensation of sitting behind the wheel of your car at midnight in the dead of summer. No description felt fit to convey the feeling of true and complete freedom as spikes of adrenaline shot through your veins, making your head hazy with a sickly excitement.

Kankri cleared his throat, and you waggled your eyebrows at him as he buckled your seatbelt for you. He simply rolled his eyes, huffed at you and smiled, grabbing your hand in his own gently as he turned to stare at the neighborhood for (hopefully) the final time.

It was the two of you from now on, and, for once, you were going to be happy.


	2. it had a crater exactly the size of a human head on it, and it landed on my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((told from 3 points of view. (...) signifies the change between Cronus and Kankri. (.../../.) will be used to place when the POV is switching from the boys to someone in their hometown--i'll try to make it as simple as possible, and I'm sorry for the confusion!))

Despite his best efforts, Kankri was overtaken by sleep only an hour into your journey. Not that you minded, of course. With your adrenaline still buzzing in your skull incessantly, you were actually grateful that at least one of you was able to find some sort of peace in the departure.

(The fact that he was really cute when he slept—all curled in on himself like a kitten—was just an added bonus.)

But as the first light of the morning crept its lethargic way over the horizon, the star-speckled cobalt sky bleeding into the haze of a dreamy azure, you finally, _finally_ saw it.

“Kanny, hey, wake up.” You whispered softly, shaking his shoulder insistently as you locked your eyes on the sign. He lazily swiped a hand across his face, his eyes slowly adjusting themselves as he followed your gaze to the corner of the street.

“Is that the…?” He asked quietly, the smallest lilt of hope carrying through his voice as he laid his hand on top of yours.

“Yeah,” You smiled, entwining your fingers with his. “We may not be home free yet, but we’re definitely out of that shit hole.”

…

Despite the ever extending distance between you and the only place you had ever really been able to call home; your real anxiety came, unsurprisingly, from the undeniable chance of being caught. Even though you were further from the threat every second, each passing moment also increased the likeliness that someone had noticed, and that they were planning to do something about it.

You’d already discussed the possible need for fake I.Ds with Cronus, and you’d both come to the conclusion that it would probably be inevitable. After all, there was really nothing you _could_ do as minors, and getting jobs or a home would be a literal impossibility. What felt the hardest though wasn’t even that you were particularly fond of your identity. The idea that you were, essentially, surrendering your only means of identification was what terrified you. You’d often wished to become any existence but your own, but the fact still remained that it was _yours_ , and you shouldn’t have found it comforting at all but you _did_.

Sensing your unease, Cronus squeezed your hand, smiling reassuringly at you.

“You okay? Not havin’ second thoughts, right?” He asked, slight worry pervading his features.

“Of course not,” You smile half-heartedly, tightening your grip on his hand in response. “I just…do you have an idea of what you want to change your name to?”

He shrugs with a noncommittal grunt, turning his attention back to the road. “I was just planning on stealing my grandfather’s first name—Eridan.”

“Huh.” You breathe, rolling the sound around on your tongue. It’s a weird feeling; being so disconnected to a name that would soon belong to someone you knew so well. Like an self-indulgent amnesia. “What about your surname?”

“I’m gonna make it better, believe it or not.” He smirks, winking at you. “’Ampora’ should, technically, be ‘Am _phora_ ’. It’s Greek.”

 “Eridan Amphora.” You repeat. “That’s a fine name, actually. Color me surprised.”

“Hey!” He laughs in mock offense, leaning his shoulder into yours. “What, you thought I couldn’t even choose a name right? How little faith you have in me, babe.”

“It’s not that; I thought you were going to do something ostentatiously egregious.” You defend, laying your head onto his shoulder a bit. “I wanted to ascertain whether or not I was in love with a ‘ _Mr. James Dean Elvis Presley Zuko_ ’. It would be a _little_ unconventional to write on official documents.”  

“Yeah, yeah.” He huffs, still grinning. “What about you? Any ideas yet?”

“Sadly, no.” You sigh, tugging absently at the frayed end of your sleeve. “Nothing else really feels right, I suppose? I don’t feel like a Kurt or a James or a David.  I’m just _Kankri_.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Cronus concedes, nodding his head slightly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, okay? Don’t worry too much about it.”

“Yeah.”

It lapses into silence again, which you’re almost thankful for. Laying your head against the cold glass of the window, you allow the rushing scenery to blend into a haze of color and sound, slipping back into a dreamless sleep.

…

..

.

It was a quiet morning, which was faintly unusual. Whether it was Kankri reading, your wife cooking, Horuss waking up early to work on his ‘projects’ in the garage, or, god forbid, Horuss going to bed after working in the garage all night, it wasn’t often that you found yourself alone. _Just as well_. You reminded yourself, preparing your morning coffee as you began your matutinal ritual.

Until you heard the thud of a door slamming shut above you, quickly followed by the sound of hurried footfalls on the stairs.

“Exequiel, you haven’t seen Kankri around, have you?” Cecilia asks, a bit frantic.

“No, he isn’t in his room?”

“He isn’t, and it doesn’t even look like he slept there…” She frowns glancing at you askance. “A lot of his things were gone, as well. I think he ran away.”

You furrow your brow, following her back upstairs and to his room. His closet was empty and looming, the door left ajar as if abandoned that way in a hurry. A decent amount of his books were taken from the shelves lining the walls.

Sucking in a harsh breath through your teeth, you reach into your pocket for your phone, quickly dialing a familiar number.

“Detective Pyrope?”

She’s at your house less than 20 minutes later. You’re lucky enough to live in a quiet, relatively crime-free town; but that only makes the rumors of situations such as yours spread like wildfire. Reina wastes no time in her investigation, poking around Kankri’s bedroom and occasionally scribbling something or other down in her notepad. It all seems unnecessarily dramatic—any idiot could see what happened.

Eventually, she stops, seemingly satisfied as ceases her writing. That is, until she turns to you.

“He obviously left voluntarily. There are no signs of struggle, and someone deactivated the security system at exactly…” She pauses, clicking her pen absently as she scans her notes. “12:07 a.m.”

“Yes, and?”

She scoffs at you, lifting an eyebrow. “And what?”

“And what are you going to do, of course.” You cross your arms, glaring at her slightly.

“That depends on what further investigation will yield.” She grins unnervingly, her sharply pointed canines glinting somehow ferociously behind her thin lips. “My partner will be here momentarily; in the meanwhile, I’m going to need the names of Kankri’s friends and acquaintances—anyone who he might have given any information to.”

“He only has one friend—that Ampora boy.” You retort, still staring her down. “Do you think he could have had anything to do with Kankri’s disappearance?”

“It’s certainly a possibility.” She replies, excusing herself from the room.

As soon as she’s gone, you allow yourself to deflate of all previous airs. You sink heavily into the chair beside his bed, your head in your hands. Kankri was your responsibility. He was under your care and something like this happening, well…it’s a little discouraging. His adoption was a tactical move, maybe, but that didn’t mean you hated him, not as he seemed to believe. After all, he was still just a kid.

Over the din of your worries, you almost don’t hear Detective Pyrope until the clicking of her heels against the marble draws you back out of your thoughts.

“Apparently, Cronus is gone, too. It’s the exact same situation as Kankri’s, so it seems pertinent to assume that they left town together.” She states tersely, her mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I should have guessed,” You grunt, staring back at the ground. “That boy is a bad influence, just like his father.”

“Zahhak, I’d appreciate it if you kept your personal emotions out of the situation.” Reina frowns, tapping her heel impatiently in the corner of your peripheral. “After all, we do have two missing adolescents to worry about.”

Sighing, you push yourself back out of the chair, brushing pointlessly at the non-existent wrinkles in your clothes. “You’re right, as always. I apologize for my unprofessional behavior.”

“Heh. Never thought I’d hear you apologize.”  Captor. Just when you were sure this couldn’t get more stressful.

“Captor, what a surprise.” You mumble insincerely, pushing the hair out of your eyes.

“Yeah, whatever Zahhak.” He replies, paying no mind to you as he rifles through his pockets. “I should warn you though, Ampora is seriously pissed off, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he came over here to interrogate you.”

“Interrogate _me_?” You sputter, incredulous. “His son is undoubtedly the one who has had a poisonous influence on Kankri. He was the picture of politeness and respect until he came into contact with that _Ampora_ boy.”

“Not my problem.” He states simply, an indifferent look on his face. “Just be ready for whatever he and Marquise have up their sleeves. After all, Cronus is the sole heir to his father’s business.”

You groan exhaustedly, laying your head in your hands.

It was going to be a long day.

**Author's Note:**

> it'll get more interesting, I promise


End file.
